Things Have Changed For Me
by Always With Amy
Summary: It's not really teasing anymore, so much as it is expressing endearment. - Justin/Austin. Title from Panic! at the Disco.


It's not until they've been dating for five months that Justin starts to realize that there's something…different in his banter with Austin. They still tease each other, of course, but the bite has seemingly disappeared – when Austin tells Justin he needs to rehearse more for a scene, it's usually an excuse for him to run the lines of Justin's love interest. When Justin tells Austin that he's got a massive ego, it's usually an innuendo for _something else _that actually makes Austin's massive ego kind of appropriate, all things considered.

And when Austin is straddling Justin's hips with a smug look on his face, while Justin struggles to catch his breath (in recovery of the borderline violent orgasm that Austin induced) and pants out, "You're _so fucking in love with yourself, _aren't you?" it doesn't seem just like teasing anymore. Even though Justin would _prefer _to say that it's nothing more than their usual, playful way of affectionately mocking one another, something about it seems…different. It's not just playful. It's not mocking. Even the profanity doesn't change that. It's just _different_.

Austin seems to notice as much, too, and his expression softens with that realization. He leans down; hesitates a few inches from Justin's face; closes the distance with a chaste, tender kiss that seems highly out of place considering the discomforting wetness in Justin's jeans.

He pulls away a moment later, of course, because all smugness and egotistical tendencies aside – Justin has a weird (and endearing, if not slightly unnerving) power over Austin, and always manages to bring out his self-consciousness and doubts. Austin scans Justin's face for signs of something, anything – a confirmation that Justin didn't _really _mean for that to come out the way that it did, maybe? a tell indicating that Justin wants Austin to leave, because _this could get really awkward and bad, really fast? _– but seems to find his answer in a smile. Small, uncertain, but _there _and _beautiful_.

And it apparently reassures Austin. So with Justin's hand sliding (with a sort of comforting way about it, Justin thinks) from Austin's shoulders, down his back, creeping closer and closer to the waistband of his jeans, Austin grins slightly, and surges forward again to capture Justin's mouth with his own.

"Wouldn't you be?" Austin murmurs against Justin's lips, the same way he's so used to doing – but this time, with the _fondness _and the _sincerity _that he doesn't always show. It's not just joking around anymore, the two of them understand in the same moment. It's frightening, and different, and unexpected, because _neither of them really thought that they'd get this far. _But it's a good kind of frightening, and different, and unexpected, and suddenly, hesitating any longer just seems _stupid._

So Justin doesn't hesitate. He doesn't pause to consider the effects of this moment; he doesn't take a second to think this through, and to _over think _it to decide whether he really means it or not. He trusts his instincts – the ones that everyone always tells him he should trust, and that are yelling _just say it _inside his mind – and lets the words fall against Austin's ear as a talented mouth works its way down Justin's jaw, towards the pulse point that Austin knows will drive Justin _crazy _(thank god for teenage stamina)if he works the skin _just _right.

"I am," Justin breathes, a feeling of relief washing over him as soon as the words are gone, because _they're not gone_; they're _there_. They've been said, and they're out, and _not having to worry about accidentally saying them _is a wonderful weight off of Justin's shoulders. (A weight that he didn't even realize he was carrying, until now that it's not there.)

A second passes, and Austin doesn't say anything in response. He stiffens, and Justin's fears that _Austin doesn't feel the same way _show up again as Austin pulls back from where Justin can feel a mark blooming on his neck. (And _that's _going to give his mother a field day, he knows. It's bad enough that she's already getting suspicious of the excuses Bobby – bless his heart – keeps trying to feed her, as explanation for _why _they should get out of the house for a few hours.)

But then Austin's smiling down at Justin – not a cocky grin, or a nervous and tentative half-smile. It's a real smile; the kind that he gave Justin when they figured everything out after _that kiss; _the kind he gave Justin after the first time they came together; the kind he seems to give Justin every time that they so much as _go out together_; hand in hand. It's Justin's favorite type of smile – the smile that says someone is _sincerely happy _– and Justin's pretty sure that he doesn't love to see it on anyone else more than he does Austin. (And that he's never been so happy himself to see it than he is now.)

He smiles back, and doesn't have to wonder if Austin's seeing the same expression that Justin is; he just _knows. _They stay like that for a while – a second? a minute? ten minutes? – before Austin crawls off of Justin, and curls up next to him. His head rests on Justin's chest like it fits there (which, as they've found out, it pretty much does) and Justin finds himself thinking vaguely that if it were anyone else, in any other situation, he'd be embarrassed at how his heart is audibly racing.

Trailing his fingers softly up and down Austin's back, Justin lies there against his boyfriend, and waits patiently for the reply that he knows Austin's preparing himself to say. (Because despite everything, when it comes to the more emotional matters, Justin is the one that takes the lead, always.)

"Damn right you are," Austin ends up saying (very anticlimactically, Justin thinks) with a self-accomplished noise of amusement.

But it's not the usual self-accomplished noise of amusement. This time, it's different, and they both hear it.

So Justin just rolls his eyes lightly, and retorts, "Just not as much as you do." Austin smiles against Justin's chest, before nestling his head into the junction of Justin's shoulder and neck, and pressing a gentle osculation to the vibrantly-colored and mildly-stinging mark on Justin's neck.

A few minutes later – or maybe not so few? Justin really doesn't know anymore; his internal clock is a mess – Austin murmurs, "I love you," into Justin's collarbone.

Justin knows he's only saying it so directly _now _because Justin's heart rate has finally slowed, and Austin thinks that Justin's asleep. Briefly, Justin considers saying it back, for the sake of getting it out in the open.

He decides against it, and just smiles a little to himself as he goes back to his pensive contemplations. He thinks he might say it (for the "first" time) to Austin later, after a nap.

_**xoxox**_

**AN: **The day I stop shipping Justin/Austin is the same day I stop shipping Kurt/Sam in Glee. It just won't happen.

**AN (2): **Holy intercourse, this is creepy stuff to write. So young… /perving.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.


End file.
